


You are, like I am

by roseey



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Singer Jeonghan, cafe owner cheol, non linear narration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26061907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseey/pseuds/roseey
Summary: Seungcheol hears a song.And also he hears from the singer.(Non linear narration)
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27
Collections: Challenge 1: Kidult





	You are, like I am

The squeaky marble countertop is spotless but Seungcheol continues to clean anyways, sighing lowly under the jazz music playing in the background of the cafe. No customers are fond of coffee in the early hours, or at least, there aren’t many who hurtle for a steaming cup that any packed instant coffee powder can provide. 

But then again, not many come to the cafe just for coffee.

Deep in thoughts, Seungcheol fails to notice a presence in front of him until he sees the familiar reflection- of the black mask, a snapback, and two captivating orbs peering at him mellowly- on the countertop.

Seungcheol’s dimples pit, as his eyes, deliver words that his lips are too busy smiling to convey.

‘One small Latte.’ The customer says, pulling down the mask enough to let the other see a pink hue resting against the cheeks.

Seungcheol turns around to prepare the said order. 

_Coups_ _cafe_ never keeps its customer waiting.

‘You like the new song I wrote for you...?’

When he presses the cup with pack of sweeteners towards the other does Seungcheol wills to respond to the question on the song.

‘I like you more.’

  
+++

  
Seungcheol isn’t a man who gives into emotions. Especially not in public. His sturdy form, acerbic charm, and soulful eyes contradict so beautifully that he strikes up as an enigma. An attractive one at that.

But that day, a dramatic melody belting out on withdrawal suffering reaches him through the speakers of his cafe. 

For a second, he pauses, zones out- only to drag himself to satisfy his responsibilities.

Amidst greeting customers, remembering the orders, and punching shots of caffeine, that particular melody lingers at the back of his mind all day long. 

Slipping beneath the sheets that night, back stretched and eyes closed, the urge to listen to the _song_ \- that voice, comes to him like thirst chasing after water. 

The painful drag of vocals digs deep into his heart, the stubborn sob difficult to gulp it down.

  
+++

‘Why you're sitting with me? Where's that "bear plushie for loners"?’ 

Confidence runs in Seungcheol’s blood, but the man before him is injecting something else...something strange in his veins to shake his core.

‘Out for a smoke break.’ 

The joke is a fail, but the brown permed hair man laughs.

A Success, somehow.

‘You run the cafe.’ 

‘An Owner, yes.’ Seungcheol emphasizes. ‘Been for years.’

‘Say, Seungcheol...’ The glint in his customer’s eyes is a devilish gate to heavenly mountains. ‘Have you ever handed out salt instead of sweeteners to anyone before, _knowingly_?'

The salted coffee Seungcheol handed out moments ago, stares at him with accusation. 

‘Like a prank?’

An expression of suppressed excitement from the singer aids the strange something in Seungcheol’s vein to hit his brain like a brick.

  
+++

  
Rolling and tossing on the bed is exhausting. So is blinking slowly through the tear sodden swollen eyes after hours of crying.

He is not hurt. 

He was, before.

Listening to the song triggered the memories of his past but also ensured that there's an end to every nightmare. 

Similar to someone finding you silently crying.

Seungcheol acknowledges his bruised heart now.

Adulthood painted an useless facade of responsibility on him. 

Apparently, the song was what all needed to remind Seungcheol that he is not an enigma.

  
+++

  
‘Is this muffin on the house?’ 

Seungcheol replies without looking up. ‘You’re a million-seller singer, for fuck’s sake.’ 

A gasp of shock elicits a mild curve of smile along Seungcheol’s lips. 

The cafe owner still is absorbed in closing the accounts. 

‘Can I pay with my black card?' 

When no card slides on the countertop, Seungcheol furtively peeks at his regular customer. 

The eyes unveiled in between the black mask and snapback aims directly at Seungcheol’s own to deliver a cheeky wink, before blinking owlishly.

Seungcheol forgets to collect the bill.

  
+++

  
The owner of the familiar soulful voice has enthralling eyes. 

Seungcheol notes as he lets the mouse cursor run along the curve of the singer’s picture on the internet.

  
+++

  
‘How the hell did you even sneak wasabi in lemonade?!’

Seungcheol is proud that he managed to utter those words despite feeling his tongue dancing on fire. 

The vile cackle from the other sounds nothing akin to its intended nature. 

To Seungcheol, at least. 

‘When you went to the staff room to remove your apron!’ 

The “bear plushie for lone customers” is the only spectator of the prank staged at the empty cafe, during twilight.

  
+++ 

Seungcheol used to shake his head in disbelief whenever fans recognize the artists by their shadow. 

He felt ashamed of himself when he immediately identified a man who had his face covered with a mask and a cap.

Delivering the order, Seungcheol watches the singer paying him a bill, but no mind.

Seconds later, however, after one look at the cup sleeve, the singer asks him-

‘You recognized me...?’

  
+++

‘Why you play pranks so much?’

‘Guess I am still not grown up enough to show my affections directly.’

The disappointment was evident.

‘You don’t have to grow up.’

Listening to that song, Seungcheol realized, acknowledging his hurt heart is fine. Pretending to be a strong adult isn't. 

The writer of that _song_ deserves to know that.

  
+++

  
When they meet after the “cup sleeve” incident, Seungcheol feels immobilized with embarrassment.

That's the first time ever he sees the singer’s face unobstructed by mask and snapback.

Also the first time Seungcheol fetches sachets of salt instead of sweeteners to go with the coffee, without intending to.

  
+++

‘I'm writing a new song for you.’

Seungcheol's heart names what exactly knocked his brain.

‘W-Why?’

‘I couldn’t help...’ The singer's shy demeanor is new. ‘Feeling like a teenager writing for my crush.’

+++

  
‘This is getting awkward, can we introduce ourselves officially? Your badge is a fucking miniature to read from, no offense.’

‘None taken.’ Seungcheol hands him a cookie. ‘I am Choi Seungcheol.’

‘Nice.’ The singer directs it not at the cookie. ‘I am Yoon Jeonghan...’


End file.
